


Reincarnated Into A Tragedy-free Life

by flexdimension



Series: Reincarnated Into A Tragedy-free Life [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Pridecember, Romantic Fluff, Slice of Life, memories of a past life, yes those character tags are legit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21643498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flexdimension/pseuds/flexdimension
Summary: Everyone is reincarnated into another life into the far in the future by the gods in thanks of their hard work. As a bonus, their loyal followers get to keep their memories!This is nothing but domestic, romantic fluff where Seto and Atem struggle with and accept their memories and live their best life with friends and family.
Relationships: Kaiba Seto | Priest Seto/Yami Yuugi | Atem, Kaiba Seto/Yami Yuugi | Atem
Series: Reincarnated Into A Tragedy-free Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551544
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. School Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School trip to Domino Museum. Seto is annoyed then embarrassed. Atem is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Pridecember 2019: #1: Pre-Raphaelite.

“All right, children! Stick to your partners and don’t wander too far!” The din of high-pitch chatter gobbled up the teacher’s voice, but her and her group managed to corral the elementary students enough to deliver the instructions.

Seto sighed, annoyed by the noise and hiked up his bookbag higher on his shoulders. If this assignment wasn’t pointless enough…

“Where do you think we should go first?” Amongst the yelling boys up front and squeals of the girls, Kisara’s soft tones were a welcomed relief. They needed to get out of this area and fast.

“Anywhere but here,” he grumbled.

Bakura’s obnoxious crackle drowned him out. “Ancient cultures, of course!”

Seto groaned. Loud. The others in their rag-tag group didn’t seem as put-off by the idea. “Which one?” Isis spoke up. “I would like to see the Ancient Egypt exhibit myself.”

“You would,” Seto mumbled his breath.

“Naturally that one!” Bakura crowed.

“Hmm, I think I’d prefer the Aquatic exhibit,” said Shada, hand cupping chin as he peered at the signs.

Around them the kids were dispersing from the lobby, taking their loudness with them. Seto felt a trickle of relief. Sensation of his hand being squeezed had him peeking down to questioning red eyes. “Which one do you want, Se-se?”

He made a face and scanned the signs and crowds. His friends made their decisions around him.

“Oh, the aquatic is a good idea!” Kalim nodded, hooking his arm around Shada’s. “Partners?”

“Then Bakura and I shall head to Egypt’s then.”

“Please be careful around him, Isis!” Mahad called out, looking frustrated.

“Jealous, magician?” Bakura laughed, successful in antagonizing him. Isis looked back him, her stoic eyes almost looking hopeful.

“Of you? Surely you jest.”

“Art,” Seto bit out, already tiring of the both of them. If the foolish magician just confessed to Isis already, they wouldn’t have to see him flounder every time. And… He glanced down to Te-te’s surprised eyes. Mahad getting over his crush on Atem was just a nice bonus.

“Art? Not science?” Atem asked. Kisara echoed his confusion.

Seto shrugged, “Less noisy. Kisara?”

She hummed, the bright blue of her eyes and the baby fat making her look adorable, tapping her chin. “The nature one, I think. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course. Try not to kill Mahad, though I’ll help you escape if you do.”

“Se-se!”

“Seto!”

He turned his nose up at both Te-te and Kisara’s reproachful, but giggly scolding. With a light swat to his arm, Kisara walked up to Mahad and did her best to calm him down, Bakura still making facing and remarks as he walked backwards. Shada, Kalim, and Isis had already disappeared.

“Let’s go.” Seto pulled Atem to the right, their hands never delinking.

—*—

As suspected, the Art exhibit had just a few elders, standing or sitting around, quiet. Seto relaxed, the budding headache he had shriveling up.

Next to him, Atem looked around almost bored. “Are you sure about this?”

“Hn.” He couldn’t turn back now; it’d make him seem silly if he did. One teacher had remained in the lobby —well, in the gift shop— to keep watch. So, he shrugged again. “I’m sure we can find something here. The assignment is easy.”

He looked over and reconsidered at the blank expression on Te-te’s face. A jolt went through him; he had never asked what _Te-te_ wanted. “Unless there was something you wanted to check out?”

“Not really.” Te-te didn’t look up at him, still gazing around. He frowned at the answer, unable to decode if it was dismissive or the truth. The delivery and feeling too neutral.

Seto squared his shoulders, ready to march back to the lobby, embarrassment be damned… “Come on, let’s go back and find something else.”

One squeeze and tug to Atem’s side aborted his attempt to turn around. “I mean it. It doesn’t matter to me.” Red eyes peeked under his lashes, the smile warming Seto from head to toe. “Not when I’m with you.” A peck on that grumpy cheek.

Seto exploded into red.

Satisfied with the mush of Seto he made, Atem proceeded to drag a red-faced Seto to the nearest doorway. Maybe he’d find something while Seto recovered.

—*—

The Art exhibit were split into small sections, each dedicated to specific genres and eras and each with their own bench (or benches). The biggest being the Renaissance, but this section had been tucked in the corner, almost hidden away. The possibility of a secret room had caught his attention and he hurried them over to it.

Only to find it another exhibit. An empty one, at that.

Pre-Raphaelites…

Atem tilted his head. He’d never heard of them.

At his back, he felt Seto’s minor heat, and he tilted his head back. Other than the small patches of light red at his ears, the other boy had recovered. Shame. A blushing Se-se was a cute one, in his royal opinion.

“Pre-Raphaelites?”

Atem faced forward to skim the didactic placard describing the genre and the brotherhood. All around were paintings filled with realistic details, many of them featuring nature and red-headed females. “Sounds like an interesting bunch, don’t they?”

Seto snorted, “I suppose that’s a word for them. I can’t deny their work isn’t different from the time. With how real—”

Atem blinked at the cut off, looking up then following his gaze to find out the cause. A few paintings down, across from the side of their bodies was one of a red-headed female in an old Victorian like dress floating on her back in, what Atem guessed to be, a pond surrounded by the greenery. Colorful flowers dotted around her and the pond. John Everett Millais, “ _Ophelia_ ,” proclaimed the label.

_Pretty._

Next to it was super-realistic painting of a red-headed lady in a black and gold boat floating down another woody river. John William Waterhouse, “ _The Lady of Shalott_ ,” read the label.

“They certainly liked red-heads.” He found the realism to be a bit off-putting, but he had to admit it made the whole thing pop and catch your attention. He wondered… “I think it’d be prettier if it was you,” Atem complimented, smirking.

Seto’s cheeks turned pink, but his voice was even when he quipped back with, “I was thinking it’d be the prettiest piece in the museum if it was _you_.” His eyes remained on the painting but his hand squeezed Atem’s tight.

Their fingers delinking for the first time since they got in the building, Atem giggled and wrapped his arms around Se-se’s shoulders. Admired how even in this lifetime, he was still shy. Then again, that was part of his charm. Soon he would have his gorgeous, handsome looks, but Atem hoped he’d retained his cute shy side.

Nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, Atem sighed happily. “We should find a painter to make them for us. We could put them up in our future house. Right next to each other.”

He snuggled closer when Seto’s arms hugged him back, squeezing him tight, protective. “You don’t need a painting to fluff your ego.”

Atem grinned, that was a yes if he played his cards right. He tucked it in the back of his mind for later. “You’re one to talk about ego. I’m surprised you could fit in the museum.”

His boyfriend’s arms crushed him for a moment in reprimand. “Quiet, you.” Then he pulled back. Atem pouted, clinging to his neck. “Come on. Let’s do this ridiculous assignment so we can get out of here.”

“All right,” he sighed, letting go. The evils known as homework enjoyed putting a damper on fun. Booo.

At least, there was always the bus ride back.

And if they hurried… they could still catch the science exhibit. As long as they avoided their noisy classmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there are nicknames. Yes, you'll see them a lot. 
> 
> I always appreciate all comments, even concrit.


	2. Balls and Brides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a cliche game of dodgeball to solve all marital problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pridcemeber2019: #2: Veil

Dreams were funny things.

Thought to be the way the brain figures out the experiences it learned and the effects of trying to incorporate memories into the greater whole. At least that’s what Seto would say. Reliving memories sounded unreal and yet dealing with the past that remained in his soul was a common feature of his existence.

A what if timeline that sadistic gods’ deemed he know about was _not_.

—*—

“Why are you so grumpy this morning, my little sun?”

Atem harrumphed, arms on top of the table and cheek squished into it. Around his arms, prepared food sat waiting for the main dish. It didn’t hinder the way his lips pouted in a cute upside down ‘v’. His mother, Kehepiri, poked a puffy cheek and giggled at the way he wiggled in grumpiness.

“Seto will be quite jealous of how grumpy you are~” She sing-songed, turning back to stir breakfast. Sizzling filled the air sending savory smells into the air and luring in a hungry father.

“Mmm, that smells good, Kehepiri.” Akhenamkhanen kissed her cheek before sitting across from his still pouting son. He blinked. “Maa, seeing you so grumpy this early is quite a rare sight, Desher.” When Atem harrumphed again, he quirked an eyebrow. “It must be Seto related.”

If possible his pout got bigger.

Kehepiri couldn’t help the urge to squee at her son’s cuteness. “If that’s the case, there’s nothing we can do. Seto-chan will be here soon, so we’ll let him take care of it.”

“Indeed.” Akhenamkhanen agreed, stroking his beard. “He’s best at it anyway.”

Atem glared at his parents.

_ding-dong_

“Oh, that must be him! Go answer it, Akhen!”

His wife was correct; Seto stood straight, his uniform perfect, his trademark stoic face making him look bored by everything around him. Akhenamkhanen smiled, “Good morning, Seto.” He stepped back to welcome him in. “You know you can enter whenever you wish. You have a key.”

“I know.” He took his shoes off, the door clicking shut behind him, and led the way to the large kitchen. “Te-te is in a grumpy mood this morning, so I figured I’d give him a chance to pretend he’s not. I see it’s worse than I thought.”

He glanced down with mild surprise, Akhenamkhanen nodded in answer. The rudeness didn’t bother him; it was part of the package of the Konryuus, namely his mother’s side. Besides, this was his son-in-law (to be), so he figured he might as well get used to it.

In the kitchen sat Atem, face down, his grump waffing off of him, and Mama Kehepiri humming at hot breakfast. She glanced over at the patter of feet on tile and beamed. “Good morning, Seto-chan! You’re here early.”

“Good morning, Mama. I sensed Te-te’s mood; Mother told me to tell you she’ll see you soon.”

Kehepiri brightened more. “Wonderful. Luckily, I made lots.” She brought over the pan, placing it on the center holder, steam curling high into the air. “Sit, sit!” There was already a seat ready for him and Seto sat next to Atem, who hadn’t lifted his head.

Whether or not he showed up for breakfast, he knew a plate waited for him. For it was the same in his home.

Seto slipped his bag off to hang it on the back of the chair, stomach rumbling. The food smelled heavenly and he couldn’t wait to dig in. Except… He stared at the side of Atem’s head.

Atem didn’t move.

Their plates filled. A nice couple slices of sausage made it onto his plate along with a helping of ful medames with eggs, a chunk of bread. Some strawberries and half a banana with juice for him, red grapes and a few orange wedges with milk for Atem.

Atem didn’t peek.

“It looks good, Mama.”

His second mother smiled, sitting down with her own plate. “Thank you, sweetie.”

Atem didn’t twitch.

Fed up, Seto leaned over and poked his head. Not even a wiggle. He sighed, “I don’t know what you’re pouting about, but I’m sure if you talked we’d find out it was nothing.”

Atem surged up.

His glare burned hot, like red sparks threatening to erupt something into flames. “It wasn’t nothing!”

Jerking back, Seto blinked wide eyes at the sudden anger before they went back to their stoic shape. “All right. Eat first, Te-te. On the walk to school you can tell me what happened.”

“Hmph!” The turning of his head and the cute side view of his massive pout told them, yes, it had to do with Seto, indeed.

Papa blew on his spoonful of ful medames. “Should I call Mahad and Mana then?” Asked like an offhand question — one that he didn’t put much thought into.

Kehepiri elbowed Akhenamkhanen with a fierce glare of her own. Seto gave him a dark scowl. Atem stole one of Seto’s sausages and stuffed into his mouth, his glare running full force.

Akhenamkhanen coughed when he realized his mistake. After a mumbled apology, he kept his mouth shut throughout the rest of the tense breakfast.

—*—

_Darn that old man!_ Seto tugged on his band, the heat from it annoying him, and glanced up. Ahead, Atem was stomping down the street and quite intent on not talking to him. All his sight granted him was his back.

He gritted his teeth, frustrated by both father and son.

Refused to acknowledge the twinge of pain in his chest.

The nerve of Papa-san! To suggest that he couldn’t handle Atem and needed _Mahad_ of all people.

The nerve of Te-te! _Talk to me, dammit!_ But, noooo, he was too busy throwing a temper tantrum to talk. Leaving him behind…

Despite his anger, his brain couldn’t help but try to figure out what bothered his Te-te so much. It couldn’t have been his one comment… Could it? No, he had been upset before that… Fingers continued playing. Under, tugging; over, plucking. Was it memory? The irritating thing about memories were two simple facts: 1) he didn’t have all of them, 2) their triggers varied.

Thumb smoothed over the beating hot metal. So, he had no way of figuring out what could be a trigger for either of them. He had his entire life as Priest until Papa died… but did Te-te have it too?

Logic told him it was only a matter of time before the rest flooded in. Darkness hovered in the back of his mind, waiting, lurking. Seto shook his head, nail tapping on metal to a mindless beat. Did Te-te have a bad one and that’s why he’s so mad?

 _Can’t be._ He would have known if that was the case. This… felt more of a huffy anger not the ’I hate your guts!’ type.

A dream then? He sighed. Then why the anger? How is he accountable of something Atem conjured up in his whimsical brain?

At the corner stood the two people he _didn’t_ want to see — the Magi siblings. Where were the others? As expected, Mahad noticed Atem’s huffy mood and shot him a glare before attempting to greet him.

Atem ignored him, pouncing on Mana the moment she turned around. He dragged her forward, not looking back. It caused an odd ache in his head that he ignored.

Seto straightened as he got close, returning Mahad’s glare. Just his luck. He didn’t have a Kisara or Kalim to be his shield. Even a Shada would have worked!

“What did you do?”

He sneered, “What makes you think I did something?” Mahad, to his eternal annoyance, matched him step by step; kept watch over the two ahead with him.

The other boy crossed his arms. “Who else could it be when he’s like that?”

“He was like that when I met up with him this morning,” he scoffed. “Don’t get mad at me because he chose your sister over you.”

With balled fists, Mahad rose to his full height —only two inches taller thank you very much— and glared down his nose at him. Tried to kill him with the knives coming out of his eyes.

Seto met it with a cool gaze. _Better get used to being tall because I_ will _surpass you._

Several deep breaths later and Mahad shook his head, turning away. “I won’t play your game. I’ll cheer him up myself.” Discussion over, he strode ahead until he was a few steps away from the duo.

It didn’t matter. Tugging on his, now warm, band again Seto knew it was a matter of time before Atem cracked. And he’ll be there, not Mahad.

* * *

Innocent classmates and students scattered at Osiris Atem’s red hot glower only to flinched back from the icy glare of Konryuu Seto. Who, instead of walking alongside Osiris, was further back looking both angered and sullen. Rather it was Magi Mahad who was next to Osiris, with Mana arm-linked on the other side.

Something had happened.

Something Bad.

Everyone kept their distance, heads down. Teachers looked anywhere else than at the quartet lest they invoke one of the two’s wrath.

All prayed. Prayed that nothing happened to them.

* * *

Kalim, fearless, leaned against the desk, Shada at his side. On the opposite were Kisara and Isis. _Just make it obvious why don’t you?_ “Okay, what happened?” Dark blue eyes cut to the grumpy boy. “Why is our little prince super pouty today?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Because you’re boyfriends,” Isis stated, matter of fact.

Seto gave her a extra cold glare for her troubles. Kisara placed a hand on his shoulder, smile gentle. “It’s because you’re the best one with it comes to his moods.”

His scowl at the desk was almost pouty itself. “I don’t know. He refused to talk to me.” He explained the events of the morning awaiting judgement from his ‘friends’.

“Figures. He must have not taken kindly to being dismissed.” Shada shook his head, not looking the least bit surprised.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Isis held her hands in front of her lap.

Kalim frowned, not quite accepting of that statement. Kisara, too, stayed quiet. “I don’t know, that’s typical Seto behavior.” Said person’s disgruntled ‘hn’ went ignored. “There must be something more than that.”

Perhaps a bad dream?”

“Or memory?” Kisara met Seto’s eyes as she said this. “How did you feel this morning?”

He shrugged. “Put-off, but nothing too abnormal.”

“That, too, is normal for you.”

“Shut it, Isis.”

“Then it wasn’t a memory.” Shada nodded. “A bad dream that Seto dismissed so cruelly this morning. Poor Prince.”

“Don’t put all the blame on me, Baldie!”

“Either way you need to cheer him up.” They followed Isis’ line of sight to where the siblings was trying to make him smile. “Lest all of our day is ruined.”

Seto snorted. Please.

—*—

Konryuu Seto, future CEO to his father’s corporation and nine year old elementary school genius, was, without a doubt, ready to tear his hair out.

He had forgotten how petty Atem could be when he was Not Happy.

There was not a doubt that the gods knew it and were messing with him. Seto stared at the teacher, who held a red dodgeball in his hand speaking, then shifted his eyes to the side. The side were Atem was, burning holes right through him — _Oh, now you pay attention to me?_ — and looking evil while doing it.

He knew what that face meant.

 _Isis jinxed me!_ Seto scanned the gym, skipping over Shada, and saw her half hidden by Mahad, gaze refusing to move from the teacher’s general direction. _Yeah, I see you. You’re_ mine _, you witch! Mahad too!_

On his side was Kisara, Kalim, and Bakura. The physically strongest of their group. They had the advantage! Seto slid his gaze to Atem, whose strong glare attempted to burst him into flames, and met his eyes head-on. He didn’t want it to be like this. _You brought this on yourself, Atem!_

He was going to _make_ Atem regret ignoring him all day today.

Shrill of a whistle.

_Game start!_

—*—

The sight Isis going down after a series of pitiful attempts to avoid his strikes with a yelp, hair flying, was oh so beautiful.

Nearby, Kalim took out two for the price of one as Shada looked on with distaste and boredom, dodging with small twists of his body. Unfortunate for him, that set him in Kalim’s sights. “I’m coming for you, Shada~!”

“No!”

A distinct roar of rage told him Bakura got Mahad. A wave of disappointment flowed through right before a loud smack and squawk of another student snapped him out of it quick, however. Pivoted on his heel to find the culprit —the student walked with shame to the ‘dungeon’ on the other side— Seto scanned the battlefield.

It was unnecessary.

Right across from him, Atem raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowed and a portion of a bright red ball wrinkling in one hand.

It was then the rest of the student body gave each other fearful looks.

_Oh. So, that’s how its going to be?_

The ball flew.

—*—

“Damn you, Mahad!”

“Bakura-kun, language!”

Seto didn’t have time to have his nerves grated by Mahad’s laugh, in the midst of a bloody battle with his rival, but later he’ll learn that a surprise ball to Mahad’s side cut his short victory. Courtesy of a mischievous Kisara.

“Take that, magician, ahahaha!”

“Quiet, you! You’re captured too!”

All around lay groaning bodies, unable to move after being the unwilling victim to a dodged ball— or having been a meatshield in Bakura’s case—, littering the battlefield and creating a hazard that made dodging harder than it should have been.

He let out a grunt at the ball that glanced his side and threw a retaliating strike that _just_ missed Atem’s shoulder. Damn… why couldn’t he remember how nimble Atem was?! Seto ducked the quick ball, scooping one next to a student, and aimed for the legs.

Atem danced out of the way. His face was a pretty mix of concentration, passion, anger, and determination. Determination of what he didn’t know, but it looked good on Atem. The way his eyes narrowed and widened in response to Seto’s actions, how his lips pursed or parted, the crimson challenging him and making his heart race with each new counter.

Too good.

The surprise red ball headed straight for his face unnoticed until it was right there. The sight of smug red widening into shock the last thing he sees.

* * *

_Why…_

All that spouting of friendship…

of being his rival…

their connection…

Was it all a lie?

_Why…_

You turned your back on me…

All without a goodbye. Did our road of battle mean nothing to you?

Was it just words?

To lose is to die. How ironic it is you who followed that advice.

Did you even think twice? Of the future, of my words? Or was it the past that always mattered to you in the end?

Our future duel… I was supposed to take the title away from you!

I was supposed to defeat you! You kneeling in defeat, head hung in shame, cards loose in your hand…

Even now your ghost haunts me. Your back is all I see. Far away from my outstretched hands.

_Why…_

The twist of your lips, the smile as it hits you. How your garnet eyes would sparkle in frustration and pride at your inevitable loss. The growl, the whisper of my name on your lips…

It was me who was fated to defeat you!

How dare you take that away from me!

How dare you leave me…

I won’t… I can’t allow it! Even if I have to pierce the dimensions!

_Yugi!!_

* * *

Blue eyes shot open, watering in the light, squeezing shut as their owner tried to figure out where he was. The crushing sensation in his chest accompanied by a lingering sadness haunted him as much as it spooked him. He swallowed against his too-tight throat, raw and painful, and the knot that formed inside. _What was that?_

A dream or a memory? He couldn’t tell, it was like nothing he ever experienced before… So real yet more like fragments of emotions than events. So keen the despair, the sadness, the anger, the _need_. Darkness that felt familiar in every way yet the spark of determination to not give up burned through his veins. Both consuming him — whether or not he succeeded.

His hands clenched in the sheets.

Beyond the maelstrom of emotions there wasn’t much to pierce together the exact details. So far he had memories from back in Ancient Egypt as both child and teen… but this didn’t feel like one of those — sunny and happy and full of hard work and soft laughter.

Eyes burned at the prick of tears, but Seto swallowed them down and boxed those feelings up for later.

A part of him knew parts of his life were missing, ones not so happy. It was logical to assume he had to face great hardship, every one did back then.

So why did this feel different?

And who was “Yugi”?!

A loud scrapping sound startled him and he turned wide eyes towards the culprit. There stood Atem, a white curtain clenched in a small fist, back straight, red eyes looking a tad watery in its glare.

 _Te-te…_ Again, that wave of sadness hit him. Without thought he struggled to his elbows, focused on that figure.

In an instant his breath left him in an ‘oof’, the soft mattress catching them both. It was then that his nose throbbed, his brain catching up to external stimuli. Heavy and warm, crushing and comfy, Seto let Atem lay on top of him while he hugged him to death.

Arms trapped under that soft figure, Seto winced and ignored the ache when he tried to bury his nose into Atem’s hair and breathe him in. He didn’t know what changed but it felt so good to have the other boy close. “Hey,” he whispered, hoarse from his injured nose, into that ridiculous hair.

Atem jerked then shook but his head and didn’t rise from Seto’s shoulder. Rather he buried himself deeper. Seto couldn’t help the soft fond smile that lifted his lips. More than ever he wish he could move his arms.

The clack-clack of high heels had it wiping away and he met the appearing nurse’s neutral expression with one of his own. Her smile polite. “Good afternoon, Konryuu-kun. How do you feel?”

“Fine,” he grunted. _Now leave._

She hummed, checking something off on her screen before leaning over them to stare at his face with a critical eye. She seemed satisfied with what she saw for she smiled again, reaching for the nearby stand. “Your nose is fine, not broken. Try not to touch it and leave this ice pad on it until the swelling goes down. It should heal within a few days.”

The sudden icy burn against the throbbing pain had him hissing and flinching back. He glared up at her, unable to do anything but suffer. But, the nurse’s attention had already switched to the koala around him. She placed a light hand on his back, her tone turned coaxing. “Osiris-kun. Konryuu-kun needs to rest…”

Atem shrugged her off. Seto grunted and muffled as he was wasn’t enough to stop him from growling at the nurse. “No. I want him here.” It was by pure will he didn’t command her to leave them alone.

Smart enough to read his tone and body language, she frowned before straightening up with a sigh. “All right. I’ll come check up on you two later.” With that, she left, closing the rattling curtain behind her.

Finally. Seto relaxed. Or as much as he could with a dang ice pad and a prince on him.

Silence rang out, the far away yells and laughter of students and hum of machines providing white noise. Seto stared up at the ceiling, unsure, but patient. For Atem’s sake.

After too long for his liking, Atem shifted away to the side, releasing him from his hold. Seto turned towards him.

Head down, blond bangs covering his eyes, fists now gripping his PE shorts… Seto blinked as the memory hit him: the dodgeball game. The ball Atem threw smacked him right in the face.

All because how pretty Atem was distracted him.

 _How embarrassing…!!_ The heat on his face spread to the tips of his ears.

Still, Atem didn’t look up.

Seto reached up to take off the ice pad to speak. Head tilting in confusion —was he blaming himself?— Seto whispered a soft, “Te-te?”

As if that was the keyword, Atem spoke to him for the first time since he yelled at him at the breakfast table. “Who’s Yugi?”

Seto blinked at the mumble. “Huh?”

Lips twisting, arms shaking at the pressure of pressing in palms against his thighs, Atem bit out, “Who. Is. Yugi.”

“Yugi…?”

The name… The act of speaking it aloud evoked something inside him, something he couldn’t put into words, couldn’t label. Why did that name sound so familiar…? One piece flashed in his mind, a fragment of emotion from earlier. At the edge, an image. It taunted him, calling out for him to grasp and never let go.

Yet it remained elusive.

“Yugi…” he whispered to himself once more.

It felt wrong. A tingle, one that didn’t fit beyond the familiarity of it all. Like an incorrect name for the game it contained. Or candy that said sweet but was sour. But… that _was_ the name that echoed in him earlier, wasn’t it?

Seto looked back at Atem who hadn’t moved. The shine of white teeth biting a paling lip would have erase any attempts to lie, not that he had any intention of doing so. “I don’t know.”

“Then why did you scream it?”

Seto frowned at the accusing statement. Why was Atem so ma—ah. A smile defeated his frown; he turned himself so they were better face-to-face. “A memory, I think.”

Atem’s head perked up a little. “A memory?”

“Mm-hmm. It was different than the usual ones; more sensation than events. I don’t know who Yugi is or why I felt such sadnes—“

“I know,” Atem interrupted. Reached up to touch his heart then moved to hug his knees, almost falling off the side before he caught himself and Seto pulled him forward. He huffed. “It was horrible yet familiar. I hated it… then you screamed that name and I…”

Now able to do what he’s been wanting since he woke up, Seto pulled Atem into his arms. “No need to be jealous,” he teased. Atem squirmed, the down-tilt of his lips telling of how much he didn’t appreciate the joke. Seto grew serious and pulled him tight to his chest. “I’m serious. I don’t remember everything but I do know you’re the person I…” He turned away, face hot, and rushed out the rest in a mumble.

Atem stilled and turned his head, eyes wide, lips parted in surprise. Seto refused to look at him, scowling off to the side. Eyes sparkling, Atem squirmed around so they were face-to-face. Then proceeded to litter kisses all over each inch of skin, careful to avoid his swollen nose, resistant to Seto’s complaints and splutters.

Atem pulled back and stared into his eyes, waiting. Seto, with a small sigh, smiled and tilted his face up, unable to reject the soft kiss on his lips.

He understood what it meant.

It wasn’t until they were comfy, snuggling with their arms wrapped around each other and Atem’s head nestled under his chin, on the narrow bed that Seto remembered what caused of all this. “Hey…”

“Hmm?”

“What was this morning about anyway?”

When Atem didn’t reply Seto pulled back to make eye contact. To no avail as the boy had turned into a hiding koala again. The touch of pink on his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed however. Seto tugged on one of Atem’s hair spikes. “Te-te. I won’t laugh.”

His koala harrumphed, “It’s ‘nothing’.”

Seto winced; he should have foreseen that coming back to bite him in the butt. He quit his tugging to ran his hand through the tri-colored hair instead and apologized. “I’m sorry,” earnest clear in his voice. “I didn’t mean to call your feelings nothing and I won’t,” he added when Atem lifted his head, lips parted. “The emotions from you this morning… I thought you had a nightmare and that,” he poked Te-te’s nose, “was what I was calling nothing. Not you, never you.”

Atem grabbed his hand to press a kiss to his palm then gave his nose the lightest of kisses, a sheepish look falling over his features along with the line of red on his cheeks. “When did you start having a way with words?”

Seto shrugged. “It’s the truth.” His hand, ‘all of a sudden’, rubbed the spot that had Te-te melting and purring in his arms.

“Cheater…” his prince whined in a content voice.

He smirked, “I prefer ‘strategist’. Now spill!”

Atem huffed, wiggling before sitting up, out of reach of that cheating hand. Arms crossed, he gave in. “It _was_ a nightmare, but a serious one! It’s you and me, me walking towards you. You were standing in front of a podium in front to Uncle Sugoroku dressed in a white…” He seem to pause, looking for the right word. “I think Mama called it a ‘tux’?”

“Te-te…”

“Yeah! It was a tux! We were older, of course! You were so handsome…” Garnet eyes went daydreamy before hardening. “But! When I got up there…!” Atem turned towards him, fists clenched. “You lifted my curtain and said, ‘what a cute bride’! I’m not the bride!”

Really? That was it? This whole thing over THAT?

Seto gave him a deadpan glare. “Does it matter?”

Atem’s cheeks puffed out more. “YES! I’m the groom! You’re MY bride!”

“What difference does it make?!” Oooh, he wanted to choke his soulmate!

“Lots! You’re my wife, I’m the one who should be lifting your curtain as you blush prettily!”

“First, it’s called a ‘veil’. Second, I’m not a wife and I don’t blush like one!”

Atem hmphed once more and turned his head to the side. “You’re my future queen, so that would make you my wife. It’s only natural for a king to have a queen that’s pretty when blushing.”

He wanted push him off the bed, the brat! “We’re not in Ancient Egypt anymore.” He crossed his own arms. “I’ll be CEO one day, a king in my own right! Certainly not a queen.”

Surprise filtered over Atem’s face before his large eyes grew watery. Right up at him. _Noooo. Don’t look at me like that!_ “You don’t want to marry me?” His bottom lip wobbled.

“Ah…” Seto hovered next to him, wavering over whether this was a trap. “I didn’t _say_ that…”

Atem scooted close, rubbing his cheek against a tense shoulder. “You’ll marry me?”

Seto licked his lips at the thought, nervous. Were they moving too fast? Or perhaps they had gotten married in the past? His memories didn’t include a marriage, not yet. He glanced down at those hopeful eyes and the tiny papier-mâché of resistance crumbled. Seto nodded, “Yes, whenever you want.”

In all honesty, it's something he wanted too.

Knowing Atem was his and _only_ his, _forever_ made him want to roll with glee.

“Pinky promise~”

Their pinkies interlock, a childish promise, but one they intended to keep regardless. The soft smile that spread on Atem’s face made him melt and smile back.

Until it turned mischievous. “I can’t wait to have you as my king-queen, Se-se!”

“Te-te, you—!”

"Aah! I'm fallin—! Se-se, you jerk!"

* * *

Outside the curtains, the nurse and the girls giggled to themselves. Their boys sighed or groaned (Bakura). It didn’t matter that they were fighting in the nurse’s office. Or that the victims of the dodgeball game were to suffer through their pre-martial woes and bickering.

Peace had returned to Domino Elementary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~This one's stupid, but I kinda like it.~~
> 
> I always appreciate all comments, even concrit.


	3. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura suffers and makes... friends with Seto??
> 
> #3: Idol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This explanation behind [TKB](https://twitter.com/MySirBud/status/1200976464595836928) = [Ryou](https://twitter.com/MySirBud/status/1200986780679507970) is now my headcanon.
> 
> Also, there is Pride here, but it's all background.

It wasn’t a stretch for him to say he knew something was up before he had his first Remembrance at elementary school. When your own name bothered you, you knew. No matter how his mom spoke it, whether in a soft whisper or in sweet, happy tones all left him squirming and shying away. The sharp prickling sensation like that of falling into a hole of thread needles.

Piercing his body, left him choking on his own blood as light faded from his eyes. 

Like darkness swallowing and drowning him, hushing him into a sleep he feared he never woke from. And if he did, he’d be lost and forever alone.

He couldn’t stand it. Said as much once he learned how to string words together. Scratched himself silly whenever the vowels passed their lips.

He hated it.

His dad thought he was being silly and convinced his mom so… at first. Then she noticed his self-inflicted marks and for the first time he saw his mom cry. Mom shouted out for his father in high-pitch tones as she tried to placate him. The resulting doctors useless, and his life struggled on. He just wanted a different name! 

All the adults thought a bit of therapy and careful enunciation would help him get over his issues.

It didn’t work. All refused to understand the crawling, laughing, darkness that wiggled across his skin, oozing from his pores. The sharp spike that dragged over his skin. But, it hadn’t been a total loss; he learned that his last name and first name invoked different reactions.

The last caused him to feel normal. Sure it felt _wrong_ , but it didn’t cause the itch, the slithering. Unlike his first…

His dad had refused to call his son by their family name and his mom remained silent. That he dared to ask to change it… ‘was an insult to his mother,’ his dad had said. And so, the delicate balance of not saying _it_ started.

But, names are inescapable. Especially for one young as him. More so, when adults consider the whole thing the silly imagination of a toddler and any nicknames are optional.

He became a rebellious teen before six years of age; an angry child. Violent, dangerous almost. Elementary school on the horizon and the thought of that scared him more than he could ever remember.

Expressed it as rage. Many items didn’t survive that day.

The prospect of so many people saying his first name… He hardly dealt with his parents saying it. His skin crawled, shadow sensations of what happened and what yet has happened. 

Red marked his pale skin in vibrant stripes. 

Mom came home to destruction, her baggy eyes looking crushed, shoulders slumped with recognition and despair and acceptance. (Dad gone again, another week who knows where, _the coward_ he would reflect years later.)

Tired hands led him to cry his eyes out in his mom’s lap; begging, pleading, for a name change. Anything to not be called by his name. Why couldn’t his favorite character’s name be his? It fit him better! Anything but _Ryou_ , mom!

Expected false soothing words, a head pat, and prepared to be put to bed. Maybe a spanking and a tired, repetitive scolding that burned his rage hotter. Instead… a pensive look fell over her face, false soothing words turning into a question: “What name do you want, honey?”

Anything. Babbled a series of names that sounded cool. Anything was fine. Anything.

His mom smiled at him and moved his bangs away from his forehead with a gentle stroke. “I see.”

Two weeks later, they walked out of the house he’s ever known and into a car towards Domino. Mom walked straight into the arms of another man, one who loved everything ancient and smiled down at him, his large hand on his head and asked his name. 

When he said he didn’t have a first name, when he expected to be laughed at… The man asked, ‘Then what do you want your name to be?’ all gentle curve of the eyes and a gentler hand.

The first day of school he walked to Domino Elementary School with his mom, name change papers in hand and a bright smile. 

All to fall into the next test Fate set out for him.

* * *

“All right, how about we introduce ourselves~? I’ll go first, OK? My name is Mary Adena, nice to meet you!” His pulse quickened. 

When he heard his name called, he stood, a grin etched onto his lips. Voiced his new name with a cocky tone.

“Don’t forget it as I’ll be famous one day.”

He sat back, pleased. His new name was a lot cooler than his old one. Without the horrible sensations consuming him at the brief utterance of his old name, he no longer felt the rolling anger, as if the storm passed over. 

His new last name gave him a sudden rush and a need to prove himself at any cost. Lest he lose… _something_. A heady, sensation that empowered him compared to inferior, degrading of his first name… 

Combined with his new first name, he felt like a hero.

He scanned the classroom he’ll be in and the faces he’ll see for the next year. No one he recognized from his neighbo— To the right sat a boy with the deepest set of blue eyes and pure brown hair. Staring right at him.

Electricity ran through him. His fingers curled into fists. Why did he look so familiar…

“Ishtar Isis. Nice to meet you.”

His head whipped around to the blank voice. The girl on his other side had black hair clipped back with a weird yellow eye hair-clip. Her stoic eyes the color of lavender. His heart skipped a beat. Who—

“Konryuu Seto.” That boy! _Seto…_ A furious itch exploded under his skin.

A tall boy with dark brown hair and a polite expression. “Magi Mahad. Nice to meet you.” Something slithered under his skin. Familiar anger bubbled into a rolling boil. _That damned magician!_ The thought made him flinch back, chest starting heave.

_Mom… Help…_

A boy with tri-colored hair stood, all sunshine and brightness. “Osiris —” A screech (or was it a roar?) deafened his brain, the world tilted.

Everything went red then black.

He fell.

* * *

“Tell the Pharaoh! The King of Thieves from Kul Elna… The Great Bakura… has come in person to see him!”

“I’ve come for — ”

 _To get_ revenge _for the dark past you tried to hide!_

“Heh heh heh… What is “evil”? If I’m loyal to what you say is right, is that all it takes to make me “good”?”

 _I’ll paint the walls of the Palace with your_ blood _…_  
_I’ll make this palace… this city… into your grave!_

“The rich and powerful love to talk about ‘Justice!’ The right to punish those you fear… To _kill_ those you hate… and all it execution, not murder! Is that really justice? Or is it evil?  
What you really fear is your enemy’s idea of justice!  
No one can _truly_ draw the line between just and unjust, good and evil. — are the compass of the soul!”

“Even now ‘Great Pharaoh…’ Look behind you at your self-righteous priests… Can you be _sure_ there isn’t one who covets your throne…?”

“Heh heh heh!  
One thief will start a war!”

“Want to die?” 

Joy. Vivid passionate joy.

Yet it didn’t fill the ache in his soul. Didn’t chase away the ghosts that clawed at him for attention, in agony.

Soon. Soon…!

“I’ve been waiting for you, Pharaoh…  
Do you see the Palace? Squatting on the throne and throwing around your power, you’ve never seen it from afar like this, have you?  
A ruler is such a pitiful thing…”

“To a _thief_ , anything you see is something you can _steal_.  
If getting everything you want is all there is to being a _king_ , then as King of Thieves, I am truly the King of Kings!”  
“And now, Pharaoh… This time… I’ll trample _your_ life.”

_I’ll kill the Pharaoh and the Priests!_

“Heh heh… You’ll never return to this world again, Magician…”

“No matter how many of you there are, you’re still weaklings!”

“HA HA HA HA HA!! So much for unity!”

“GWAAHHHH!” _Di-Diabound is—!_

Pain… intense gut-wrenching pain… warmth on his lips…  
blurring of the world… the underground turning dark knees scrapping against stone… chilly…  
_Mom… dad… everyon—_  
…  
…

* * *

He woke with a sharp gasp, lost, body aching.

The stench of sterilization, bandaids, and citrus burned at his nose. A soft bed underneath him, the white curtains encasing him and the pure white sheets…

The nurse’s office! He remembered it from the mini-tour him and his mom had…

Memories slammed into him. One of desert sands, death of gold and red, starvation and beatings, of shadows and darkness leading him on a path of power and victory, of pain and sadness. And anger, so much anger and hatred for one person.

_The Pharaoh…_

The image of that boy, the one with tri-colored hair, hovered, mutated and matured. Others popped up around him and with a jolt he realized he recognized them. They were his new classmates!

Bakura ‘Ryou’ Sugiharu sat up and remembered.

Remembered himself as the great Thief King Bakura.

* * *

To his surprise, they sent him home; his mom waiting by the principal’s office with worried tears at the corner of her eyes. The sight of her falling into that giant boiling pot of gold, screaming in agony, covered her for a second. Bakura froze and shook his head; his tiny hand reaching out to grasp hers tight.

Warm.

It squeezed back, alive; she smiled, relieved, down at him, alive, alive. She was _alive_.

This wasn’t Ancient Egypt anymore. And he planned on keeping it that way.

That didn’t stop the visions of the past from haunting him the rest of the day.

* * *

He refused to admit he dreaded going back to school.

He refused to turn tail like a coward.

This brand new life was _his_ and he wasn’t going to let any names, Pharaohs or gods ruin that. His fist clenched his bookbag strap. He faced the “gods” once and he’ll do it again.

As he walked into school, he held his head high. Unbothered by the looks some of the brats gave him; he expected after he passed out like he did.

But he didn’t expect to see a certain Priest standing at the doorway to their class, arms crossed. Was waiting for _him_ as he straightened once he caught sight of him. Bakura stopped next to him and rose an eyebrow.

“I see you remembered,” was all he said. The edge of a smirk poking out.

He snorted. “More than you, I can guarantee that.” His eyes narrowed. “How did you know?” Recovering memories from the past… The Internet told him it wasn’t that common. Or even rare; in fact, it’s the stuff of the supernatural according to science.

The denial of magic had him laughing for five minutes straight.

“Heh. I know what someone undergoing a Remembrance looks like.” Then he uncrossed his arms and held his hand out. Bakura stared dumbly at it. “Friends?”

“Are you kidding me.” What the hell was wrong with the Priest? Did he genuinely have his memories or was this a ploy? He knew the High Priest of the past wouldn’t care to make friends with a thief, not after the genocide he started and the death of his precious Pharaoh.

The Priest shrugged, hand retracting. “Allies then. Or would you rather be by yourself, remembering things without anyone understanding what’s it like or what you’re talking about?”

 _Damn he’s right._ With a frown, somewhat reluctant, Bakura reached out. He never had friends before. Unless you count the tormented and angry ghosts of his village as ‘friends’. He stared into those blue eyes as his hand clasped the Prie— no, _Seto’s_.

Priest Mahad had been the only one who could match him back then.

But it was Priest Seto that gave him his first moment of surprise, his first fear of losing.

And he noted both now and then, that he and Seto… weren’t so different after all. “Just don’t expect me to be friends with your precious Pharaoh.”

“Don’t mess with the Prince and there’d be no issues.”

Prince, huh. 

By chance he looked down at their retreating hands; a silver bracelet on Seto’s wrist, a slight thickness and red the color of rubies filled in a cut all the way around the circumference but otherwise blank and smooth. It looked expensive. Curious, curious.

Regardless, Bakura couldn’t wait until they remembered what he did. _Let’s see how this false friendship lasts._

* * *

Bakura turned to where the shrimp was sitting, chewing on the end of his stylus in concentration. So innocent and young… He guessed he would be too if he didn’t remember his family and friends getting melted into gold by those in power. 

His eyes roamed down. And caught sight of a silver band with sapphire blue cut in the middle. Too similar to Seto’s for it to be anything but intentional. White eyebrows rose. He didn’t understand the meaning behind this discovery, not yet, so he filed it away for later.

With a quiet sigh, he leaned against his palm, shutting his eyes to the teacher’s droning voice.

Reincarnated and having to deal with school was the gods’ way of getting their laughs. It couldn’t get any worse…

* * *

No, he took that back.

Breaks between classes resembled watching one of his mom’s shows — where the woman appeared and caused men to trip over themselves for her attention. 

Many of their classmates (and some from other classes, who were these idiots?) shoved and nudged each other away to talk to the “Great Prince”. And it was over the most pointless of shit.

“Ne, Osiris-kun, have you played the new RPG they released? It’s based on a card game!”

“Hey, Osiris, think you can play a game with us? We’re short on members…”

“Osiris! Are you heading towards Heartland? They got new arcade games in!”

 _Anything_ to get a scrap of his attention. And if he thought the boys were bad… The _girls_ might as well write “I have a crush on the Prince!” on their forehead.

“Ne, Osiris-kun… Did you understand the purpose of the homework? I didn’t quite get it…”

“Osiris-san, will you be too busy today? We could use your help…”

“If you’re going to Heartland, m-may I join, Osiris-kun?”

Bakura wanted to claw his eyes out and his ears off. To add to his disgust, each time the Pharaoh would smile and either reject or give a cheerful “yes!” to something that interested him.

So different from the one who stared at him in cold anger and demanded justice. Whose animated priests declared how they’d “execute” him and keen on being the one to do it. All in his honor. 

And if the group got too large and tried to encircle him, the Priests came running like the bodyguards they were to fend them off. He didn’t even have to worry about dealing with so many that wanted his attention or grabby hands. If he tired of them, his slaves broke everything up, letting him simply walk away with an oblivious and bright face.

His fans would slump or chase after him, keeping their distance to stalk.

It was the second day of school and already the whole thing felt natural as breathing. Even reincarnated, fools worshipped and kissed the ground he walked on for no real reason. Despite this being a new life, he, Bakura, was once again forced to watch this child revered as a god and not spoiled royal brat.

This is the worst!

* * *

…Never tempt the gods.

Now that he’s had the privilege to watch the priests fawn over the “prince” (did no one remember him as Pharaoh?), he had a new contender for the ‘worst’ title. The gods were torturing him.

Yes, that’s what this was: torture. This was actual hell…

“Prince, what would you like to do today?” Mahad smiled, eyes dreamy and eager. The memory of the man getting sliced open by a large blade as they fought hovered over that happy image. Just enough to not let the sap kill him.

“Hmm~ I’ll let you guys surprise me! I got nothing to do today since the RPG isn’t getting an update until tonight.” The “prince” (why didn’t any of these cowards call him by his name?) irritated him, a lot. All smiles and happiness; disgusting.

Constantly needing his priests to be around him and hold his hand. It would surprise him if the child remembered a lick, so clueless and oblivious he was.

More and more he grew certain they didn’t remember his short stint as Pharaoh.

What disgusted him more, however… 

“Se-se! You’re coming too, right?”

“Of course. Well, Mahad? Isis, Kalim, Shada? Figure out how to entertain the prince yet?”

That damn priest. _Seto_. The cocky smirk and the ease at which he handled himself; the way his eyes held a maturity, a cold indifference to those outside his group (especially around that damned Pharaoh)… 

Yet he turned into mush the moment the Pharaoh smiled at him. Bowed his head and lowered himself to underneath that brat just for a bit of attention. What a waste!

Bakura knew darkness when he saw it — the shadows that crawled around Seto’s ankles waiting for their chance. Unlike the Pharaoh, who held nothing but light and child-like happiness; the shadows avoided him like they did the sun.

Damn, was he alone in remembering everything? 

Well, he assumed it was everything.

Unfortunately, his memories cut off upon his death at the hands of that bastard Akhenaden after summoning the Dark God. What happened after…?

Did he manage to kill the Pharaoh?

If so, who took his place? It didn’t take a genius to figure out the Pharaoh had defeated those bastards since they were all here, alive and healthy.

“Oi, Bakura! You’re coming with, so get moving,” Seto commanded. The only one that bothered to include him in their group. Mahad’s eyes narrowed at the both of them; Isis’ face didn’t change nor did Kalim’s. Shada’s had a light frown but seemed unbothered. The Great Pharaoh and the magician girl stared in curiosity.

It made him feel like an outsider even though it had only been one day since he “met” them.

Bakura grumbled, but trotted after them.

He hoped it was Seto; he deserved the title more than the shrimp. At least he’d own up his dark deeds.

— **—  
**

“Not going to join in?” Bakura lazily turned his head to stare at the figure that sat next to him.

He snorted. “I could ask the same of you, Seto.” In front were the rest playing some game, running like buffoons across the technological park. How childish…

“Hn.” Bakura’s lips curled into a spiteful grin and he chuckled to himself. This boy could be playing with his beloved “Te-te” right now yet he was sitting beside _him_ and keeping _him_ company.

_Take that, Pharaoh._

“Some kid you are.”

Seto hummed.

Bakura didn’t get it. Why did this one worship the ground the princeling walked on? If he cast him to the side the Pharaoh would be nothing… “Why?” He grimaced; he had not meant to say that aloud.

Seto gave him a curious glance out of the corner of his eye. “Why what?”

He sighed. Might as well. “Why do you bother with these kids?”

This made the other boy turned to stare fully at him. “We’re kids, too, Bakura.”

A scoff. “In body only.” He sneered, hand slapping down on the bench. “I _know_ you remember shit. That you’re smarter than you act and look. So why play pretend?”

For a long moment, Seto said nothing, his frown the only sign he heard him. Bakura tsk’d and crossed his arms, staring up at the trees.

“You remember more than I do.” Not a question. Bakura’s eyes glanced over. 

“So my guess was right.” The dark grin reappeared. “You remember the ‘prince’ but not the Pharaoh.” His laugh sounded ugly. “No wonder you were so quick to accept me.”

The Priest eyed him, head tilted to the side. “Are you saying that was a mistake?”

Bakura got close and sneered. “No shit. Who’s to say I won’t repeat history? Not that you remember.” He crackled to himself. Screams and laughters of the others echoed around them, the electronic roars and screeches adding to the chaos.

To his credit, the Priest didn’t shy away. A small smirk challenged him. He felt his eyes widen and his heart race, what the hell? “Maybe so.”

“Se-se, help!”

In an instant, his head snapped towards the playground, eyes scanning. The scream hadn’t been one of distress, an undercurrent of laughter in it. Perhaps it was for that reason alone the boy didn’t jump up and run off. The Priest turned back towards him. “I’m going to trust my gut on this one.”

“SE-SE!”

“I’m coming, Te-te!” He stood, ready to save his weak and pathetic king once more.

“Fine then,” he ground out. “Let me give you a bit of advice.” He waited until the other boy looked back. “Don’t idolize your prince. Or you find yourself wishing you never remembered.”

Seto frowned but the calls of his king were too strong for him to ignore. “I’ll grill you on that later.” Then he was off.

With a lazy strides, hands in pockets, Bakura followed to see the fuss. As it turns out the others had been teasing the baby prince, and who he learned was the Magician’s little sister, too much and he had crawled behind Seto, making faces. _Pathetic._

He remembered the Pharaoh in the past at least attempting to fight his own battles. Or maybe he cowered more when he wasn’t in public. Bakura watched as Seto chased off the others using a dragon ( _ah, this game_ ) and help the Pharaoh win the flag.

The baby prince jumped up and down before glomping onto Seto with a wide smile who met it with one of his own. Bakura’s fist clenched in his pocket. Then him and the sister hugged, sticking their tongues out at the others. In celebration of a victory he only gained thanks to his High Priest. _That’s why you could never defeat me, Pharaoh. Maybe I need to prove it to you once more._

The rest of the pathetic priests were all smiles and praise for their Prince and teasing for Seto. Next to the monkey bars, Bakura observed. Scrutinized.

He’ll wait. Wait for the day to swoop in and prove the Pharaoh was a nobody. Nothing but a child propped up by the foolish and idealistic.

And when that day comes, Seto will realize he didn’t need that ball-and-chain. Bakura was certain of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheated and got punished for it. Not happy with how this turned out, but I'm sick of it. 
> 
> [Bakura's name](https://flexdimension.dreamwidth.org/6596.html) info.
> 
> _Constructive criticism always welcomed._


	4. Disney is Immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gods help Seto. Both of his friends are infected by Disney!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prideshipping... now as babies. Desher = Atem, fyi.

“A-are you sure about this?” Fukayana smiled at the stutter. “I mean, we can always schedule the move another day and—”

“You know that won’t work,” she interrupted smoothly. “It’s been a few days already. Any longer is a risk to all of our sanity.” At her ankle, her son clung and stared with laser focus. She heard Kehepiri sighed as she picked up her son and settled him into her lap, his fist clutching her blouse.

“I know… It’s just…”

Fukayana’s lips twitched up more, kissing Seto’s cheek. “I understand. But by trying to avoid co-dependency we may end up doing more harm.” A pudgy hand tried to reach for her phone and she leaned back to grab it to give it a kiss. Her other hand kept him stable. “We should trust their instincts; they’d know better than us.”

Another sigh, but she caught the smile in it. “Yes, you’re right.” A rustle and a whine. “Okay, we’ll come.” Fukayana bounced Seto with a short cheer. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the evil Ymi.” 

Kehepiri huffed. “I can take of myself!” A pause. “But I’ll hold you to that. Now turn on your screen; Desher is getting antsy.”

With a chuckle, Fukayana did as she was told. “Seto’s been burning a hole through my face the whole time.” The air blinked, a solid digital line pulling apart to reveal a screen, its picture crisp and sharp. Another press of a button and cute whines filled her office air. 

Immediately, Seto’s head swiveled, searching.

Fukayana adjusted the screen so as to not strain his neck, letting him see his soulmate. It was obvious the sight had his complete attention for he relaxed against her and spoke.

Well, spoke was a bit of an overestimation. More like babbled but even that sounded incorrect. He babbled like he was speaking real words with seemingly intentional starts and stops and pauses.

On the other side she knew it was true for Kehepiri’s son. His excessive wiggling and whining also stopped as soon as he noticed Seto on screen. One hand reached out to touch and their screen glitched for a second — Seto growled. Kehepiri’s light scolds later and then the baby reappeared with a massive pout on its face.

She had to admit the boy was cute, in a stubborn baby way. Seto learned quick that Atem wasn’t truly on the other side and that touching the screen equalled no Atem. His soulmate on the other hand… well, she gave him points for being persistent. 

In no time at all, their happy tones filled her office, and she set Seto next to her on the desk.

The perfect music for work.

* * *

Ymi-san’s house screamed rich beyond belief, like a queen’s mansion. Her daughter’s (play? there was no bed…) room, however…

A young girl’s ultimate dream. Toys, dolls, and all the accessories a little girl would need lined the walls, hugged the walls and sat on the cutesy flower carpet. In front of a large screened TV a white-haired lady dressed up in a pretty sky-colored ball gown sang and danced, a toddler dressed in a shiny dragon onesie on her hip. The TV blared out a female singing about her life as the environment fluttered around her.

Kehepiri paused on the threshold and took the room and sight in with wide eyes.

Kisara… was Seto’s age, right?

Some of this stuff looked fit more for an elementary school girl not a baby!

Her incredulous stare turned towards Fukayana with hope for answers. Instead, the other woman crossed over, the floating stroller bobbing after her. “Ymi.”

Ymi?! The dancing dressed-as-a-princess lady was her?!

Jaw dropped; Kehepiri could only watch as Ymi froze. The lady turned in slow motion; if it had been anyone else they’d be red as a tomato but rather this Ymi came across more like a stone statue — her face blank and movements stiff.

“Fukayana. You’re early.”

“The movers came sooner than I expected.” 

“I see. I’m glad you chose a reputable service.”

Kehepiri’s gaze flicked between the two of them in awe. The conversation flowing as if they didn’t just walk in on an older lady singing and dancing to what looked like a cartoon princess.

Ymi peered at the single floater before she seemed to realize Kehepiri still stood at the doorway. It allowed her to get a good look at the dancing “princess” for the first time: cold blue eyes, pale white skin, and white hair with frosted blue tips in a high ponytail. “You must be Fukayana’s chosen. Osiris Kehepiri, correct?” 

“Y-yes!” Despite her beauty there was a sharpness about her. One that dared anyone to challenge her and be ruined trying. Similar to Fukayana... But, Kehepiri could feel the lesser warmth from the “princess”. 

The contrast between it and the big poofy dress with the matching tiara… left Kehepiri to freak out in silence.

“I’m sure you already know I’m Ymi.” The lady tipped her head and hummed. “Your son?”

Thankfully, Fukayana interjected and led the conversation without missing a beat. Her hand waved over to the floater. “Over here.” When pale brows furrowed, she added, “Our sons are soulmates, remember? They enjoy being close.”

The brows relaxed. “Hm, I see.” She put the toddler down and Kehepiri wondered how many of the children took after their mothers for the girl also looked quite like her mother. Except her eyes were large and innocent, giving her an angelic appearance. “Your terms, Fukayana?”

While the two ladies duke it out, Kehepiri settled herself for removing the boys from the floater. The girl —Kisara— crawled over to the table to grab a stuff animal. _Ah, a blue eyes white dragon? No wonder her and Seto-chan are friends._ Then made her way back towards them. 

Seto didn’t move from his spot until Atem sat next to him. Only after did he crawled forward to meet her halfway. Atem hesitated, looking up at his mama —who smiled encouragingly— then to Seto. The boy, clumsy, turned around and bounced his own dragon plush once. “Te-te.”

That’s all he needed; Atem crawled forward to meet the new girl.

Kehepiri wondered if they’d be okay. This room… would the boys even like it? Would they get bored? Did Ymi-san understand their condition and needs? What about food? And nap—

“Sunlight.” Kehepiri jumped and swerved around. Fukayana shot her a small smile. “Relax, I told Ymi everything. She’s trustworthy enough.” The words and Ymi-san’s snort didn’t exactly instill a sense of trustworthiness. Kehepiri bit her lip, glancing at her son.

He didn’t seem uncomfortable. Not smiling but he looked curious and relaxed enough by Seto’s side.

But she _did_ trust Fukayana. She nodded. “All right.” And bent down to kiss her son and Seto goodbye. “We’ll be back in a few hours, okay? Don’t get into any trouble.”

Atem coo’d at her while Seto grunted. The same reaction Fukayana got with her kisses. 

Kehepiri straightened to find Ymi-san boring a hole into her. Her face didn’t crack a smile but her voice and eyes held a bit of warmth. “Don’t worry,” she started with a nod. “As long as he likes Disney there’ll be no issues.”

She decided not to ask what a Disney was.

* * *

“Do you think they’re doing okay?”

Fukayana sighed; that was the thirtieth time she asked. “ _Yes_ , sunlight. Do we need to call to find out?”

Said woman brightened. “That’s a great idea, Fuka-chan! Let’s!”

Fukayana grimaced but gave in to that smile. It made her too weak… 

The screen popped up and Ymi answered in a short tone as if their calling interrupted her. “Yes?” 

“The boys,” Fukayana replied in the same tone. Kehepiri pushed herself into her side to see the screen and Fukayana melted. Okay, maybe this was a good idea, after all.

Ymi didn’t huff (even though she wanted to, in Fukayana’s opinion), just let the screen rotate. Kehepiri gasped in shock. There in front of the TV screen, moving his body to the beat, was Atem dressed in a cute dress. Kisara danced next to him, happy as can be.

His dragon plush squished in his arms and surrounded by stuff animals, poor Seto sat nearby in his own pastel blue dress, grumpy. 

“I must say, your son has what it takes to be a Disney Princess, Kehepiri-san. Your son, Fukayana… not so much.”

Kehepiri collapsed in fits of giggles on top of an amused Fukayana.

* * *

Seto’s face dropped in horror as his mother sat him in what he assumed was his Te-te’s room. He didn’t remember many things, but he had a vague memory of what it _used_ to look like.

And it certainly didn’t contain with bright colors, cute animals, toy-shaped castles and swords and girly things on the walls, and that blasted annoyance from Kisara’s room playing. And… and _that_ hideous outfit the crazy, shiny lady forced him in laid on the bed, shiny and new.

Seto looked up at his mother. This was the wrong place!

But, alas, she looked down at him with a smile. Kneeled down to comb gentle fingers through his growing hair. “Welcome to your sun’s new room. Do you like it?”

What.

Like a star, Te-te bounced out from somewhere. Dressed in black and red, fake jewelry attached, and boots, his face held a proud expression. “Se-se!” His mom steadied him as he wobbled over, still learning to walk.

“Oh,” came his mother’s voice. “There’s your prince charming.”

Oh no…

“Let’s get him in his new outfit, Fuka-chan!”

No.

As fast as his hands and legs could take him he rushed over to the pile of animals, an intense look on his face. The monstrosity swung from Mom’s hands, her smile bright.

“I don’t think he’s on board with Disney, sunlight.”

“Nonsense! No one can reject Disney! Besides, with Desher, he’ll warm up to it!”

“Se-se!” Atem swayed, clinging to Mom’s pants, bouncing. “Pa!” Eyes sparkling, smile wide… Seto knew this was _his_ idea.

His dragon plush flew and Atem yelped as he fell on his butt, confused. Neither mother had time to respond before they, too, got a plush to the face.

No mercy for traitors.

“…Looks like we’ll be redecorating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disney or Duel Monsters? Choose wisely.
> 
> _Constructive criticism always welcomed._


End file.
